


Two Birds, One Hammer

by lateralus



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lateralus/pseuds/lateralus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House's patient has a brain tumour. House has a hammer. Wilson, as usual, is caught in the middle.</p><p>Just a silly, stupid House & Wilson banter fic that I wrote a while ago. Because House and Wilson bantering has always been my favourite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Birds, One Hammer

"So, I'm doing what exactly?" Wilson asked, scurrying after House to catch up with him.

House was heading for the elevator. "You're going to convince my patient that the only redemption his born again ass is going to receive is a ticket to ride on the highway to the morgue if he doesn't quit preaching about God's will versus mine."

Wilson frowned suspiciously. "I'm not sure if this is just me being preemptive, but I'm starting to get a strangely familiar, sinking feeling that I'm going to regret agreeing to your words, 'do me a favour'."

"Exactly why I didn't tell you what the favour was that I needed when I asked you. 'Cause I knew you'd say no."

Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose.

"God's will," House continued without a single care towards Wilson's exasperation, "is in my patient's head. _My_ will, on the other hand, is to drill _into_ his head so that I can remove that nasty little God-given tumour that's about two days away from making him meet his personal Judgement Day."

"Right," Wilson sighed dryly. He pulled a hand out of his lab coat pocket to gesture down to the claw hammer House was holding in his hand. "Mind explaining to me what this has to do with you brandishing a hammer?"

House looked at him, then down at the hammer. Eyes then back on Wilson. "I plan on instilling the fear of God into my patient. S'pose you could say a kind of gavel of logic." He brandished the hammer in air, adding theatrically, "The hammer of Thor!"

Wilson gave him one of those trademark outraged looks he was so fond of giving. "You can't bully people out of their beliefs by using their head to demonstrate the _literal_ meaning of 'the grapes of wrath' just because their beliefs clash with your morbid, Sisyphean attitude towards life and death."

"Sisyphus cheated death," House pointed out, now waving the hammer at Wilson. "Just like my patient will if he bends to _my_ will."

"Jesus rose from dead, unlike Sisyphus," Wilson countered. 

"Rose from the dead. Cheated death." House shrugged. "Semantics."

"You know, Sisyphus cheating death caused the world nothing but great suffering."

"So, he's no different to Jesus, then." House threw him a sidelong look. "Anyway, since when did you become a Genital? Thought you were a Jew."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Trust you to equate Gentiles with genitals."

"The one thing that unites all religions alike, including the foundation of guilt upon which all religions are built: every sinner, saint, _goy_ and girl has genitals. Including my patient. Who is being, in awfully polite terms, a genital for refusing treatment."

"He has a right to refuse treatment, House. And alright - I'll concede that he's an _idiot_ for refusing it. But he still has that right."

"Not on my clock _or_ my will, he doesn't."

Just as they approached the elevator, Wilson rounded in front of House and stopped him in his tracks before he could hit the elevator call button. Wilson set his hands on his hips in that very Wilson way. "Why, exactly, do you need _me_ to convince your patient to agree to the surgery? You're clearly planning on bullying him whether I convince him or not."

House gave him an impatient look. "Bullying is plan B. I prefer to carry out plans alphabetically, which means plan A has to be attempted first."

"Plan A being…?"

"Plan A being," House replied as he reached around Wilson to finally hit the elevator button, "that while my patient may have the God-given spiritual gift of martyrdom, _you_ , my friend, have the gift of manipulation."

"House." Wilson was using That Tone. That berating, disapproving tone that he'd mastered so well over the years. "I am _not_ manipulating your patient into agreeing to surgery."

"Why not?" House motioned off towards the direction of Wilson's office with a wave of the hammer. "Your entire oncology practice _thrives_ on manipulation. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's the main ingredient you personally put into every cancer patient's chemotherapy."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. House stepped around Wilson and into the elevator. Noticing Wilson wasn't making a move to step on board, House gave him an look before lifting his cane to stab the button that held the doors open.

Wilson sighed, shook his head with his lips pressed into a thin line, and stepped into the elevator. "You're an ass," he said matter-of-factly as he peered up at the numbers while the doors shut.

House looked very pleased with himself as he glanced across at Wilson. "And yet, here you are."

"Threatening to beat your patient's head to a pulp is _so_ not the way to talk him into agreeing to subscribe to your definition of redemption."

House cocked his head mock thoughtfully. "'Redemption' was the opening theme song to _Rocky II_ , wasn't it?"

Wilson's brows quirked in confusion. "What's that got to do with anything?"

A shrug. "Nothing. I'm just pointing out how irrelevant your advice is by trivialising it into an irrelevant pop culture reference."

"Seriously, House." Wilson levelled a look at him. "What are you _really_ going to do with that hammer?"

House held it up marvelling it. The shiny silver claw gleamed under the lights of the elevator. "Demonstrating."

"Uh. Demonstrating _what_ , exactly?"

House clicked his tongue, as much to complain that he'd already explained all of this to Wilson. "I _told_ you."

"Right, of course," Wilson replied with dry irritation. "Your 'gavel of logic'." He lifted his hands to motion quotation marks with his finger.

House nodded. "Absolutely. My will versus God's will. The ultimate smackdown."

"You, of all people, should know you can't argue logic with religion. They're immiscible. That's like trying to mix oil and water."

"Which is exactly why God has to play by _my_ rules," replied House. "God doesn't stand a chance in a smackdown against logic."

"What makes you think you'll ever get your patient to agree with your will over God's?"

House gestured to the hammer. " _My_ God - meaning _me_ , of course - has a claw hammer that will break through skulls with a single blow. _His_ God, on the other hand, was nailed to a tree. With a hammer, no less. Wanna take bets on who'll win the first round of Rock-Paper-Logic?"

Wilson gave him a look. "You _personify_ Sisyphus - you realise that, don't you? You could approach this whole situation rationally and ethically, like most sane doctors would, by explaining to your patient the pros of having brain surgery. But no. Like Sisyphus, because you _personify_ Sisyphus, you have to keep rolling the stone of futility up the hill over and over, making everything difficult for yourself and everyone else around you, no matter how many times it rolls back down the hill again."

House pursed his lips as if he was considering Wilson's point. But then he replied, "Except I'm already one step ahead of Sisyphus." Once again, he motioned to the hammer. "Sisyphus was an idiot: he didn't have a hammer with him to smash the stone into itty bitty pieces like I would. Work smart, not hard."

"Bullying your patient isn't smart."

"Which is exactly why you're going to execute plan A. You manipulate him into agreeing to the surgery, I don't have to lift a bullying finger. Or a hammer." House looked triumphant. "See? Told you I'm always one step ahead."

"And what if I refuse?" 

House gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Guess that means I'll have to execute plan B."

"Which is...?"

Once again, House waved the hammer, a comically maniacal look in his eyes. "If I can't make him cave, I can threaten to make his _head_ cave before the tumour does it for him." 

Wilson eyed him in a way that House knew he'd gotten his way. House suppressed a smirk of victory. 

"You're doing this deliberately, aren't you?" Wilson asked.

"Doing what?" House asked innocently.

Wilson moved his hands around in that theatrical, flapping manner of his when he was rankled by House's lunacy. "Staging this in a way where you threaten to do something so psychotic that I have no choice but to bend to your will, meaning I've got no choice but to make your _patient_ bend to your will so that you don't get slapped with a medical malpractice lawsuit and Cuddy threatening for the umpteenth time to fire your ass."

House didn't bother to hide his smug triumph this time. "Killing two birds with one hammer. All in a day's work. Like I said, work smart, not hard."

Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose again as the elevator doors opened.


End file.
